


Those Left Behind

by Blackjewel101



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Gen, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Slavery, Twi'leks, Zygerria, zygerrian slavers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 15:43:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14697270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackjewel101/pseuds/Blackjewel101
Summary: When a special twi'lek is born to a family of five, her parents are afraid of the horrors this universe can hold.  Three sisters must keep a broken family together in the harshest of environments, even when they're enslaved by monsters.





	Those Left Behind

Thousands of years before Skywalkers shook the galaxy, a single, special girl was born to a family of Twi’leks on the harsh desert planet of Ryloth. Her mother took one look at her and wept, for because she was special, she’d be of great value to anyone wanted a quick credit. Ra’Kadeth was the name that was given to her, Ra from Rar, meaning bold, and Kadeth from many words for spells and protection.

She was the youngest of three sisters, Azrina, the oldest, and Ayashi the middle child, looked out for their youngest sister, “RaRa, come play with us!” They’d cry in Ryl, always including her even when all of the other children ran from her in fear. Ra’Kadeth had never known why they ran, mama says it’s only because they don’t know her, her sisters say nothing, and papa is worried.

You see, Ra’Kadeth was born very special, her skin, unlike other Twi’leks, was red. Genetically, she was an albino, rare and special. That made her a target, for Twi’leks were renowned for being beautiful, but weaker than average. This made them perfect targets for slavers, and she was a rare specimen.

The slavers came when she was five, they broke into the village late at night when everyone was asleep. They killed papa first, his blood maring the stones of their hut as his eyes glazed over in death. Then gagged mama, smacking her across the face with a sickening slap when she cried out, and the tell tale thud as she fell to the ground. 

Azrina tried to hide her sisters in the closet, but what could a little seven year old do? They were all found, and they were all dragged from their homes by their lekku, two head tails on the back of their heads that helped with communication, no longer were they free girls living their lives, they were now property.

They were taken onto a rickety old ship, chained in groups to the walls, the pipes, anything bolted down. Ra’Kadeth was given a bench to sit on, others weren’t so lucky, they were chained to pipes running along the ceiling, toes dangling down, barely touching the floor. Those people were catatonic, in too much pain to even attempt to move. No food was brought to them, only a pale of water to be passed around once every two days. You could share and be thirsty, or hoard it all and let the others die. Fights broke out, slaves died, the masters were unhappy.

Azrina kept them safe, kept them sane, kept them together. Weeks later the ship landed on Zygerria, the dreaded planet of slavers, their entire culture circled around slavery. They were going to die, the moans and groans of the other Twi’leks filled the air as chains were unhooked in favor for collars connected together in a line. Everyone knew, if you didn’t submit, you died, it was just the way things were.

For the first few nights they slept in the open air, huddling together for warmth. Some families had separated and tried to shelter their children, but to no avail. Again no food, for days now and water was even scarcer. People began hoarding it, forming groups to defend the meager supplies. It was at this point that Ra’Kadeth saw a change in her eldest sister. One night, when their mother had collapsed from thirst, Azrina took a stone and began sharpening it on the cavern wall, slowly, meticulously, until it was sharp. The seven year old girl then crep as close as her chains allowed, closer and closer to the hoarder. 

He was clutching the rusty, dented old canteen to his chest. Dirt marred his face, his eyes darted even under their eyelids in sleep, his nails long and jagged from unkempt hygiene. The girl lifted her stone shank, and as she pulled the canteen from his boney fingers, jabbed him in the throat. A silent and quick death, a mercy.

___________________________________________  
The Sama’rah’s survived, for years they lived in those slave camps, alone, hungry, starving but still alive. Until their mother was sold, that was the breaking point.

“No, no stop please!” Dia’Feen cried, reaching for her three children as she struggled against the chains around her throat. Not even the cracking of the whips across her back deterred her, the deep slashes leaching blood simply spurred her forward. The mother had began to resemble a wild animal, clawing, scratching and howling for her young. All the while the three girls struggled against their own chains, albeit silently, reaching for their mother… A mother they would not see again for eighteen years.

_______________________________________________

Her sisters were being sold, this was worse than when mom was taken. Azrina, Ayashi, the only ones she had left… Ra’Kadeth’s eldest sister was their protector… Ayashi was the one who rocked her to sleep and told her stories… Who would do those things now? Not one of these thoughts went through the lethan’s head as the Zygerrians began dragging the two older Twi’leks away. She didn’t even feel the iron collar biting into her flesh as she surged forward.

Ra’Kadeth’s cries of desperation echoed throughout the pens, ricocheting off the walls of stone. Azrina elbowed the man holding her, making him double over in pain, she rushed to Ayashi who began clawing at her own captor’s eyes. 

Once free they began sprinting towards their youngest sister, skidding to a halt at her feet. She pulled at her bindings, trying to free herself while her sisters did the same, Azrina smashing a large rock at the chain connector while Ayashi pulling the chain taught, trying to rip it out of the wall.

All too soon their captors recovered, tearing the family apart once again, the girls were struck for their efforts, and dragged to the transport ships anyway. Her sisters were gone, and the youngest daughter of the Sama’rah family would not see them again for fifteen years. She would never hear about how her sister’s transport was taken over by Republic infiltrators, or that they had been freed… All she knew is that she was now alone…

________________________________________________

“Get up.” One of the masters spit, throwing the fourteen year old to the ground, her hands skid across the rough sand below her as the lethan tried to catch herself on them. Ra’Kadeth held back a hiss of pain, if only to deny the man the satisfaction of seeing her suffer. Puberty had begun to hit and now it was time.

With everyday the young woman became more and more beautiful, as was the trait of her race. And with more beauty, more and more people began to want to buy the pretty little exotic lethan twi’lek. The thing was, she was a pricy slave, 24,000 credits… not many people wanted to pay that much money for a disorderly and disobedient slave. The thing is, because of her genetic… gift… it didn’t really matter her temperament.

“You’re lucky girly, you’re going to the Empire, be grateful it ain’t the Hutts. You know there was a bidding war for ya? Tch, can’t believe anyone would pay money for ya.” 

The man’s cat-like paw wrapped around the t’chun of her lekku, wrenching them and her head backwards. “Then again… all women have the same thing between their legs, no matter what race ya are.” With those words, the master crept closer, and closer until...

“Xigon, get the wench onto the ship already will ya?!” ‘Xigon’ grumbled but let Ra’Kadeth go, pushing her towards the transport pad. On the pad was a new ship, much different than the usual transports or even the high class ships from the palaces up above. It was dark, with long protrusions on each side making the ship look like a jagged v shape. Upon the platform flanked by two nobles obviously kissing up to the customer.

It was a man, of a species that the lethan had never seen before. His skin was red like her own, but there were sharp, bony protrusions coming out of his jaw and chin. A long, dark cloak enveloped a muscular frame, and a thick hood darkened his face, but not his eyes. Those eyes… They were the eyes of a monster… Deep Orange ringed in red, under that hood they seemed to almost glow. He didn’t look a her, just grasped the chain connected to her collar and yanked.

So this is how it was going to be, fine, so be it.

_________________________________________________

Almost half a decade with her master went by, she was now seventeen years old, her beautiful skin was now broken apart with scar after scar. Years of abuse and torment really left their mark, and not just externally. On the inside the sweet little girl from Ryloth was dead, in her place was a survivor, a survivor who’d had enough of this life. A survivor who was going to take her life back.

Finally, she’d gotten the tools to end it, to end him...The Sith Lord Turik. Two thin, curved knives that were originally covered in rust and buried in the yard. It had taken months to polish them, to sharpen them until they were just right. This wasn’t a rushed plan no, after all this time, Ra’Kadeth had learned on important lesson, patience was a tool best used in revenge. She knew that this act would cost the lethan her life, for any slave that killed their master was put to death. But this, this was worth it… Because even though she’d be gone, so would he. He’d never be able to buy another slave, never be able to treat someone else the same way as he did her ever again.

It was the dead of night, she’d picked her collar. Being able to feel the weight of that heavy leather strap and manacles fall to the ground around her had been as freeing as if she was back on Ryloth, in her mother’s arms. Purple eyes flickered across the room, scanning, waiting, a predator on the hunt. She was ready, it was finally time. The Twi’lek quietly slipped through the manor, the lightning storm outside casting small snippets of light through the windows in lazy intervals. Further she crept, towards the heavy metal door of her master’s room.

Ra’Kadeth’s senses were enhanced, the adrenaline in her veins making her heart beat faster, her senses stronger and time seem to stop. She could feel the soft, plush carpeted floor between her toes, the chilled air prickling her crimson skin. The lethan’s lekku twitched in anticipation, the ends flicking back and forth. Finally she reached that cursed door, her hand shook as it grasped the handle, there was no going back. This was it, the moment Ra’Kadeth had been dreaming of for ages.

Metal made no sound as it opened, revealing the room before her. Dark, metal everywhere, with lanterns hanging from the ceiling carrying violet fire that cast dancing shadows across the walls. Artifacts of all walks of life lined shelves all around the room. Their eyes seemed to follow the Twi’lek as she crept ever closer. There stood the bed, a great and luxurious waste of space shoved up against the far wall. Under a mountain of silken sheets the color of brightest blood lay him. Those cursed eyes closed in slumber, claws sprawled out to the sides, he looked so peaceful. Lord Turik appeared to be nothing but another pureblood, sleeping ever so soundly. She smiled softly, he looked almost… happy.

The knives came down. Dark maroon blood splattered her vision as the Sith awoke with a start, but it was too late. He could do nothing but try desperately to swipe at her as his own blood caught in his meaty throat. The gurgles filled the room but were outweighed by maniacal laughter coming from the woman before him. The blades came down again, this time along his deltoids, slicing the tendons and rendering his arms useless. Tangerine and lemon eyes were wide in honest to God fear, while blood poured from between sharp teeth.

Just as Turik’s eyes began to glaze over in death, as he gurgled the last of his life fluid away, the former slave bent down next to his ear.

“Do you know why?” She asked, her voice sickeningly sweet. “...Because I wanted to.” And with those final words, Ra’Kadeth drove her blades into her former owner one final time. Straight through his black heart.

Finally he was dead, he was gone. She was free! Finally, the beautiful and exhilarating feeling washed over her, even as her hands were soaked and dripping with the dark life blood. A wave of understanding overtook her, choking the happiness from her. This was it, it was over… The authorities would come, and they would kill her without question. 

A slave who kills their master cannot be sold again, they’re too big of a threat. She would die. But she would die triumphant, she would die a fighter. So she sat, at the site of her brutal murder, dark crimson fluid covering her, splattered all over her visage, and waited.

________________________________________________________

They came at dawn, busting through the door and stopping dead in their tracks. Ra’Kadeth made no move to stop them, she continued to sit at the scene of her crime, waiting patiently for the end. Another Sith pushed through the officers, his face covered with an empty, emotionless mask of overlapping metal. He made no move to unhook his lightsaber from the thick belt around his waist. Instead, the Sith held out a hand to Ra’Kadeth. She blinked, her eyes looking at the hand offered, then to the Sith and back. The Twi’lek took it, standing up daintily, a questioning look over her face.

“You did this?” The masked man asked, his voice echoing off the walls of the graveyard of a room.

“Yes.” Ra’Kadeth said, her gaze turning defiant in wake of these events. The Sith chuckled, his face turning towards the lifeless corpse still staring out into the void. He motioned to it before turning back to her.

“I’m impressed, not many people can take a Sith by surprise, let alone kill them in their sleep. What’s your name my dear?”

“Ra’Kadeth Sama’rah.”

“Huh, and you’re a slave?” She glared in response.

“Was. I am a slave no more.” Masked visage fell back as hollow laughter bounced off the metal walls.

“For certain, and tell me, little one, have your eyes always been such a glorious gold?” The Twi’lek paused, whipping around to look into the mirror across the way, two deep yellow eyes glowed back at her. The deep violet she’d come to know her whole life were gone, in their place were two orbs of death, marks of her first, bloody, kill.

“...No…”

“I thought as much, you’re force sensitive you know. Two choices lay before you now, I can send you to be processed and killed for your crime, or you can go to Korriban to train.” He put a hand on her shoulder softly, causing her to whip around and back away slightly. “But, I have an opening for an apprentice myself… and this, this here is good work. I’m offering you a place by my side, to learn to fight… To be free.” Once again he held a hand out to her, this time as equals. Ra’Kadeth took his hand, shaking it with a nod.

“Welcome aboard little one, I am Darth Helios. I believe we’ll get along famously.”

**Author's Note:**

> This story is connected to my series, The Empress' Wrath, I will be bringing in Ra'Kadeth soon and I can't wait to hear what you guys have to say about this piece.


End file.
